Those White Wings
by Rosage
Summary: A collection of prompt requests for female/female relationships. 4. Miledy/Guinevere-First flight. Set after chapter 13. Miledy is reunited with her princess, but the road ahead looks bumpy.
1. SigrunTanith--Sparring

_The collection title is from the song Tsubasa no Komoriuta from the anime Simoun. This drabble was for Maddie, who requested Tanith/Sigrun-sparring._

Adrenaline makes Tanith hyper-aware, but Sigrun's experience allows her to catch Tanith unguarded. The technique Sigrun uses to soften the blow hurts Tanith more than the gash does. It's tempered by nostalgia as she remembers experiencing Sigrun's teaching style firsthand. Tanith herself never goes easy on recruits. The enemy won't, she reasons.

She doesn't go easy on Sigrun, either, but her muscles threaten to seize up of their own accord when she lunges. Only Sigrun's lightning-quick reactions remind Tanith there's no need. Tanith has long since learned that with Sigrun, looks are deceptive. Nobody knows better than Tanith that behind that pleasant face is a warrior who can soar as quickly as any raven and strike as fiercely as any hawk, but she feels like she's learning all over again. Training together away from the prying eyes of recruits is a luxury; all of their days are spent protecting their empress and teaching others to do the same. They're rarely allowed—can't _afford_—to spar simply for the joy of it.

As they parry each other's blows, Tanith abandons thought and relies on the instinct that years of discipline have beaten into her body. She gives into raw adrenaline as her muscles experience the most wonderful kind of ache. There's a synergy between the two women as they thrust and dodge, locking lances in clashes of metal that Tanith feels deep within her bones. It's not sentimental, but it's its own kind of passion, one that needs no frills or explanations.

For a moment, Tanith fears Sigrun will let her win, but Sigrun is kinder to her pride than that. She disarms Tanith and points the lance tip at Tanith's neck in one smooth motion before gracing her with a pleasant smile.

They don't go to the healer, though Sigrun—as always—tries to convince Tanith. It's a formality; Sigrun must know that Tanith will refuse, and besides, Tanith thinks Sigrun enjoys tending to her wounds. Here, the bedside manner most would expect comes out. Tanith returns the favor, rubbing salve on an arm painted in purple and red. Most people would find the scars Sigrun wears dissonant with her loveliness, but Tanith knows better. She traces one in a gesture more intimate than a kiss before leaning in to press her lips to Sigrun's all the same.


	2. HeatherNephenee--Breakfast in Bed

_This one was for ijustreallylovescarvesokay on tumblr, who requested Heather/Nephenee-breakfast in bed. _

Heather wakes up to the scents of bacon and coffee. Lulled into a sense of security, she buries her head in the pillow and revels in the numbness of half-sleep. It's a rare treat for her; being ready to help her ma at a moment's notice has made her a light sleeper, not to mention her paranoia of the shadows that creep through alleyways. The nights she tosses and turns most are the ones where she sees herself in those shadows, but lately those nights are few and far between.

A hand peels back the covers tentatively. Heather's own hand brushes calloused skin as she swats it away. Covering her eyes, she peers up through her fingers at Nephenee and smiles. A cute face is a perfect start to the day.

"Morning, sunshine," Heather says, tucking her knees back and patting the bed. Nephenee sits on the edge, scooting inward only at Heather's beckoning. It's really not big enough, but Heather likes having an excuse to cuddle.

"Mornin'. I've got yer breakfast," Nephenee says.

Heather sits up and looks at the tray of cheese, meat, and tomatoes. Dating a farm girl has its perks, she thinks.

"Thanks, sugar," she says, taking the tray onto her lap. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You looked mighty comfortable," Nephenee answers, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and making Heather dream of doing it for her. "An' I thought you deserved a little pamperin'."

Heather beams and picks up the mug. The steam warms her chin. "That's sweet of you."

She's about to dive into breakfast when guilt stops her. More and more recently, she's been spending the night away from home, leaving her worried about ma. Is she well enough to make her own breakfast? Was she comfortable last night? Did the neighbor come around this morning to harass her?

"The breakfast not right?" Nephenee asks.

Startled out of her thoughts, Heather forces a smile and tweaks Nephenee's ear. "It looks great, don't you worry." She picks a slice of tomato up and eats it quickly with her head down, a habit developed from stealing fruits at the market. One slice in, she remembers there's no need. She teasingly asks Nephenee to feed her instead.

Once Heather's licked tomato juice off of both their fingers, a red-faced Nephenee speaks up. "Oh, ah almost forgot. We had extra, so ma took it over to your ma's house."

Heather frowns. "Really?" She almost never lets people into ma's house. Mentally, she goes over their stock so she can make sure it's all there when she gets back.

"Yeah. I told ma she was under the weather, and she got real worried and whipped up some tea."

Heather tries to relax. The woman raised Nephenee, after all, so she'll trust her generosity for now. She returns to teasing Nephenee, marveling at her luck and wondering if a trip to the market to repay her is in order. Then again, she thinks as Nephenee eats a strip of bacon out of her hand, staying in for the day sounds nice, too.


	3. JillMist--Reach

_This doesn't quite fit into this collection, being a friendship drabble from last summer, but I thought slipping it in here would work well enough. It was for Intaglionyx for the prompt Mist-Reach._

Mist pouted. She'd been trying to get Jill to come and join them for dinner for ages, but no amount of knocking, shouting, singing, or listing tantalizing foods (never mind the fact that most of them weren't on board) had gotten more than a few mumbled _go away_sin response.

Which, of course, meant she just had to try harder.

Mist stepped back, preparing to ram the door down like she'd seen her dad do to a bandit hideout. He was a bit bulkier than her, sure, but she had _spirit, _and certainly that counted for—

Falling through the doorway, Mist flung her arms out to catch herself. A hand caught hold of one of them.

Mist rubbed her head. As if the ship's movement hadn't made her dizzy enough. Jill jerked her hand away, leaving Mist to regain her balance. Jill's other hand held the knob of the now-open door.

Spirit _did _count for something, after all. The joy of Mist's triumph faded when she saw Jill's face. Immediately, she understood why Jill had locked herself in.

"Oh!" Mist exclaimed. "Are you all right? Um, that was a dumb question—I'm sorry! Don't start crying again!"

"I'm _not_," Jill said. With her eyes hidden in the crook of her elbow, it was hard to tell if she was lying. "I'm just…Ah, I'm never going to hear the end of this, am I?"

"Why do you say that?"

Jill peered over her arm. "Soldiers don't cry," she said in a dull voice. "If my squad members saw me like this, I'd be mocked and excluded from the campfire for a week. And if that's what my friends would do, who knows how an enemy would react?"

Mist put a hand on her hip. "Well I think that's a _terrible _way to treat a friend. And you're one of mine, so I'd never do that to you."

She expected some rant about _I'm a soldier you're my enemy blah blah Daeins and Crimeans let's all hate each other_, but instead, Jill lowered her arm, revealing puffy eyes. "…Really?" she whispered.

Mist smiled through her heartache. "Of course!" she said. "And…um…anytime you need a shoulder to cry on, you can come to me. 'Cause that's what friends are for."

Jill stared at her for so long that Mist started to fidget. Finally, Jill said, "Um…okay. I'm not really used to people seeing me cry, but…I'll remember that."

Mist smile widened. "Great!" Raising her hand, she gripped her medallion through the fabric. Jill was such a long way from home, Mist realized. She must miss her family. Did she have anything like the medallion to comfort her? In her mind's eye, Mist saw Jill on the ship deck, clinging to her lance as it would help her keep her balance.

Suddenly shy, Mist said, "Do you want a hug?"

Jill's face scrunched up, but after an awkward moment, she said, "Sure. Um…if you want."

Mist stepped forward and reached her arms around Jill. Jill felt stiff, and when she reciprocated, she held Mist loosely as if not used to it. Mist snuggled into Jill's shoulder, noticing how muscular it was, like the rare times she'd gotten to hug her father. He'd never been a teddy bear, but he'd felt so firm.

Jill stepped away, dropping her arms tightly to her side. "Thank you," she said in a voice unlike her usual husky tone.

Mist grinned. "Any time!" she said, before reaching out to grab her friend's hand and pull her away to dinner.


	4. MiledyGuinevere--First Flight

_Written for Professor-Tammi on tumblr, who gave me the prompt of Miledy/Guinevere-they ride Miledy's wyvern together for the first time, though that didn't quite end up being what the fic is about. Set after chapter 13._

Wind buffeted Miledy's cheeks as she flew. Since the moment she'd walked in on Guinevere clutching a sword to her chest, her heart hadn't stopped racing, and she'd felt it twist when Guinevere backed away from her. Only when Guinevere took tentative steps toward her did she allow herself to feel relieved by their reunion. Pushing the memory aside, she stole a glance at Guinevere's arms around her waist and called back.

"Hold on tight. I have to take us higher if we're to stay out of the ballista's range."

Guinevere's grip tightened, the only reassurance Miledy had that the wind hadn't stolen her words. She felt Guinevere's head press into her back as they climbed and felt sympathy for how uncomfortable the flight must be. However, there was nothing she could do except keep her safe.

Scanning the ground, she located the enemy—Bern's enemy, not hers. Separating herself from Bern seemed impossible until she remembered that the alternative was separating herself from Guinevere. Already it seemed impossible that they'd spent so long apart. The knowledge that Guinevere herself had chosen that distance burned in her gut.

A thought occurred to her, awful and daring. If she disregarded Guinevere's orders, she could take her away from the danger on both sides. The thought only lasted an instant. Guinevere had a noble goal, and Miledy would do anything to help her fulfill it. To even think of kidnapping her as her brother had…

She shook her head. There would be time to admonish herself later. Swooping down, she approached the general her had so much faith in. The image of Guinevere plummeting to her death stayed with her after she handed the princess over to Ostia's caravan and took to the sky, all the while aware of Guinevere's absence at her back.

xxxxxxx

As soon as the army set up camp, Miledy headed for Guinevere's tent. After so much time apart, she felt uneasy having Guinevere out of her sight for even a moment, even though she knew the princess would not turn to ash without her. As she approached, the guard posted outside cast her armor a suspicious glance. Glad the army was taking Guinevere's protection seriously, she moved to announce herself and was stopped by a familiar voice.

"Miledy. There you are."

Miledy turned and bowed. "Princess. I apologize for not calling on you sooner."

"No, it's fine. I wish to discuss something with you."

"What is it?"

Guinevere glanced toward her tent. "If you wouldn't mind, my feet…"

Miledy inclined her head. "Of course."

They settled inside the tent, Guinevere's skirt crumpling on the dirt underneath her even as she smoothed the top. She smiled thinly when Miledy's eyes caught the movement.

"I've had to get used to nobody caring if I dirty my clothes. It's ironic; I'd finally come to terms with not frolicking with forest animals, and now…" Her smile wavered. Miledy thought of a story she'd heard about a fox and felt her heart twist.

"It's all right. You don't have to force a smile on my account."

Guinevere's smile hesitated before collapsing. Her chin drooped to her chest, and her hands trembled as they wrung her dress. "I finally see my brother again, and…"

Miledy dug her thumbnail into her skin to stop herself from reaching out. Had Guinevere kept speaking, Miledy would have offered her counsel, but Guinevere only breathed heavy breaths. It finally struck Miledy that her princess was _there, _in the flesh, her pain raw and visible. The hurt of knowing that Guinevere hadn't come to her lessened. In its place came the question of howshe could best support her now that she finally could.

It didn't take long for Guinevere to collect herself. "Are you sure you don't need more time?" Miledy asked.

Guinevere shook her head. "The people my brother is oppressing are suffering worse than I am. I can't stop to think about my own situation until I've helped them."

Proud of Guinevere and ashamed of herself for even fantasizing about charioting her away, Miledy nodded. "Then I'll do anything in my power to help you do so."

Guinevere's smile this time was not so thin. 'Thank you, Miledy. As to that…"

"Yes?"

"When we were flying earlier…I'm afraid I wasn't prepared for it. The air is so bumpy, and my stomach kept lurching. It was all I could do to hang on."

"Forgive me. Were we in different circumstances, I would have taken more care."

"No, you kept me safe, and even abandoned your comrades to do it. It's just that, now that you are escorting me, I thought I should get more used to flight."

"I see. In that case, anytime you want to practice, you need only say the word."

"Thank you." Guinevere hesitated. "Miledy…" Reaching forward, she squeezed Miledy's hand. "I'm glad for your support."

Miledy released a breath she'd been holding ever since she'd first learned of Guinevere's escape. Bringing Guinevere's hand to her lips, she felt unexpected calluses brush chapped skin. "My princess, I vow to see you through to the end." Never again would she falter for even an instant in guiding Guinevere down her chosen path. If Guinevere was willing to fight for what she believed in, Miledy would be right beside her, preparing her for anything that came her way.


End file.
